


The Wretched One

by athousandwinds



Category: Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-04
Updated: 2008-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, five things Toby wished he didn't remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wretched One

_i. look down_  
His nose was bleeding onto the hemp as he picked at it, squinting past his bruised eye into the dim light. He'd got a hiding from one of the older boys for stealing food; then they'd told on him and he'd got a beating off Mr Boswell, too. Mrs Goodyear was watching him now, beady-eyed and suspicious. He bent his head closer to his work.

"Sorry about dinner," Charlie whispered next to him.

"Who's talking there?" Mrs Goodyear shouted. Toby hunched his shoulders and pulled the rope nearer.

  


 _ii. drink with me_  
Toby forced his head back to avoid Signor Pirelli's breath, reeking of alcohol and behind it, decay. His teeth were green; he'd spent the week's takings on mercury. He thought he had the pox. Toby hoped he did.

"You been poking around in my things, boy?"

"No," Toby said, without the slightest bit of optimism. Pirelli'd been into the beer all evening. He expected and got a clip round the ear.

"Nasty brat," Pirelli said, and slammed out the door.

  


 _iii. red and black_  
"Mr Todd," Toby said, breathless with running. "Missus Lovett says come quick, there's someone to see you."

Mr Todd was stood stock-still in the middle of the room, his razor open in his hand. "Is that so, boy?"

"Yes, sir – " Toby's voice trailed off as he saw the basin of water, slowly staining red. "Is something wrong, sir?"

Funny that Mr Todd had his coat on when it was so nice out; all that black was too hot for summer, Mrs Lovett said. His razor was glinting in the sunlight. Mr Todd saw him looking, and said sharply, "Out, boy. And don't come in again without knocking."

"Yes, sir," said Toby, and made his escape thankfully.

  


 _iv. master of the house_  
"Don't listen to him, mum," Toby said. Mrs Lovett patted his head with absent-minded kindness.

"Why not, Toby? Mr T's a good man, love, don't you worry."

"Don't think he is," Toby said resentfully. She laughed.

"I know, love, but I promise. He's just doing his bit for the world like the rest of us."

"He'll lead you astray," Toby tried to tell her, his voice as plaintive as he could make it, but she rapped him on the forehead.

"Don't you think I can look after myself? We'll be all right."

She tucked him in and blew out the candle – she let him have his own candle, now that the shop was doing so well. He waited until she'd gone, then looked out of the window. He could hear the faint sounds of her climbing the iron stairs to Mr Todd's room and he slipped back into bed, disheartened.

  


 _v. lovely ladies_  
"I'm sorry," Toby repeated as she wrapped the bedclothes around him.

"Don't be silly, dear." Her face faded in and out above him. He felt warm all over, but it was probably the fever.

Once she brought him a tot of gin, to keep his strength up. The crisis was over, she said, and he'd been a good boy. She brought him food, good stuff for sixpence, and told him a story every night. It was like having a mum, a proper mum, the kind of mum you were supposed to have.

"Can I have a pie?" he asked, sitting up in bed.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lip at him. "Are you sure, love?"

"Please?" he said, looking as pathetic as possible. She softened.

"You can have anything you like, my dear."


End file.
